


Throne of Glass Prompts

by librarian_of_velaris



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Adorable, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Funny, elorcan kids, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2019-07-06 01:24:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15875631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/librarian_of_velaris/pseuds/librarian_of_velaris
Summary: A compilation of oneshots and fics from prompts that I've written/answered on Tumblr





	1. It'll Be Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elide needs to overcome one of her fears in order to get to Aelin

“Lorcan, this is a bad idea.” 

“Oh relax, Elide, it’ll be fine.” 

Elide stared at the narrow bridge in front of them. Heights had never been her forte. She preferred solid ground, where she couldn’t fall to her death. 

But this bridge…well, to Elide, it was a death trap waiting to happen, and that was putting it nicely. The nearly-rotten boards were held together by fraying rope, though a fair number of those boards were missing, anyway, the rope having snapped. It swayed in the wind, left, right, then left again, the only thing keeping the bridge from falling apart from the wind was, unsurprisingly, two pieces of rope that held it up on both sides–while also serving as a railing, so they wouldn’t go off the side. 

But Elide didn’t even so much as trust that it’d get them across in one piece. If there was a misstep, if the bridge suddenly decided to collapse…they were falling hundreds of feet into a chasm they couldn’t see the bottom of. 

“I don’t like this, Lorcan. There has to be another way to the island,” Elide said, her voice shaking. 

“There isn’t another way. Believe me,” he huffed, “I wish there were.” 

This bridge, however flimsy, was the only way to the island in front of them.

The island where Maeve was keeping Aelin. 

Rowan had gone ahead of them, flying to and around the island in search of his wife. He’d left Elide and Lorcan near the bridge, telling them he’d send word once he found Aelin. 

And then they’d get her out. 

But before that, they needed to cross this Gods-forsaken death trap. 

“Just follow my lead,” Lorcan said, and stepped onto the bridge. 

His first step onto the bridge caused it to veer far too much to the right. He stumbled, gripping onto the flimsy railing as it swayed back and forth, waiting until it was steady–or, as steady as it could manage–to continue his trek.

The next few steps were easy. The boards held strong and the rope managed not to break. Then came the broken board. The gap was…unpleasant. Small enough to step over if you were tall, but large enough that, if something went wrong, Lorcan could easily fall right through and down the chasm. 

Elide held her breath. If he even so much as tripped, she certainly wouldn’t be able to make it. 

But Lorcan simply stepped over the gap and onto the next board, and the next, until he was well over half-way to the island. 

Half way to Aelin. 

He stepped over the gaps with ease, steadied himself using the roped-railing when the wind–or his steps–caused the bridge to sway a little too much…really, Lorcan made this look easy. Soon enough, he was across the bridge and standing on a tall, grassy hill on the other side. 

“Okay, Elide, it’s your turn,” he yelled to her. 

Her feet wouldn’t move. She wouldn’t–couldn’t cross. Not when one misstep, one wrong move would have her plummeting to her death. 

_Why couldn’t this bridge be two feet off the ground?_

“Elide,” Lorcan called again, “you need to cross the bridge. You can do this.” 

_No, I can’t._

Her legs weren’t as long as Lorcan’s, her limbs not as graceful or coordinated. It would be too easy to fall through the broken boards, to be swung off the bridge as it swayed, Elide unable to hold on tight enough or keep her balance. 

“Lorcan, I…” she was trembling. She wouldn’t make it across this bridge alive. She wouldn’t save Aelin. She wouldn’t see her Queen on her rightful throne–

“Elide,” Lorcan said again, “I’m here. If anything goes wrong, I’ve got you. Now, you need to step onto the bridge. Please. We need to find Aelin.” 

Elide nodded, gulped, and willed her feet to step onto the bridge. 

She gripped the railing with shaking hands as it swayed. Trying to steady herself, she willed her mind to relax, to calm. To remember why she was here. Why she was doing this. 

_My name is Elide Lochan, and I will not be afraid._

She took another step, repeating Aelin’s words in her head and remembering why she was crossing this bridge, risking her life. 

“Good, Elide, that’s good. You’re almost half-way there,” she could hear Lorcan saying. 

One step.

Another.

Another. 

Until she stepped on the board in front of her. 

And her foot went right through it. 

“ELIDE!” 

She gripped the railing. One leg was still on the board behind her, her other leg, though, had fallen right through where the board should’ve been. 

Dangling down into the chasm. 

_My name is Elide Lochan and I will not be afraid. My name is Elide Lochan and I will not be afraid. My name is Elide Lochan and I will_ not  _be afraid._

Using the rope to steady herself, she used it to haul herself back up, pulling her leg back with her. Now standing, she tried to take a step forward, across the gap. 

Her legs wouldn’t budge.

“Lorcan, I’m not so sure…”

“You can do this, Elide. Just don’t look down. Look at me instead. You’re nearly half-way there, you can do it.” 

She nodded. She could do this, she would cross the bridge, find Aelin, and bring her home. 

With her eyes trained on Lorcan, she stepped across the gap and onto the next board. She kept moving, slowly but swiftly, keeping her eyes on Lorcan and the other side of the bridge, refusing to look down. 

If there was a broken board or a gap, Lorcan warned her, and she stepped over. Carefully. She did not look down, forcing the endless depths of the chasm out of her mind as she neared grassy land. 

“Two more steps, Elide,” Lorcan said, and then she was hugging him, her feet planted firmly on the ground. 

He kissed her forehead. “See? I knew you could do it.” 

Elide smiled up at him.

“Let’s go find the Queen.” 


	2. Faster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elide and Lorcan must face the Valg

“Elide, you need to move faster.” 

“I’m goingas fast as I can,  _Lorcan.”_

Erawan’s forces had overrun the forest, the Valg slaughtering anyone who got in their path. Aelin’s army, as strong as they might be, were no match for the sheer numbers Erawan had placed here. This was not a battle. 

It was an execution.

And Elide and Lorcan were stuck right in the middle of it.

“You need to  _move,”_ Lorcan yelled to Elide, her pace slowing the longer they ran. Even with Lorcan’s magic bracing her ankle, she could only move so fast. And with the Valg gaining on them…she wasn’t sure how long she could keep going. 

“I’m trying!” Elide spat back, and picked up her pace. She was running at a sprint now, but one quick look behind her–at the Valg who seemed only a few yards away–made her realize that maybe she wouldn’t be fast enough. 

Lorcan slowed his pace to match hers. 

_Lorcan you need to_ move.  _Stop slowing down._

If he was slowing down to make a point…Gods, if the Valg didn’t kill them, she’d put a sword through him for this. 

She sped up until she was next to Lorcan. He glanced at her, his brows furrowed. “Why are you–LORCAN!” 

Her shriek echoed through the forest. A Valg soldier had managed to get in their path, ahead of them. Its sword was out, and a wicked smile grew on the thing’s face. It was ready– _wanted–_ to kill them. It would enjoy it. And the split second Lorcan wasted looking at her…it was too long. The Valg swung its sword, aimed directly at Lorcan, its smile growing as metal prepared to meet flesh–

But met metal instead. Lorcan shot out his sword, blocking the fatal blow, and giving Elide enough time to take out one of her knives and throw it right at the Valg’s neck. Black blood spilled from the wound and the creature staggered back, dropping its sword. Lorcan quickly beheaded it. 

“Nice throw,” he ground out, taking her hand. The Valg behind them were close–too close. They needed to run  _now._

Elide couldn’t so much as say thank you before he was picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder like a traveling sack. And then he started running. 

“Why did you–” 

“You’re too slow. We need to outrun them.” 

_He’s got a point,_ she thought. His demi-Fae limbs were longer. And faster. Even if she didn’t like it, she had to admit it was probably the smart move. 

“You can see them,” Lorcan said in-between breaths, “if they get too close, tell me. Use your knives.” 

He couldn’t see it, but Elide nodded and managed to grab two knives from her belt. 

Her throwing was precise. If any of the Valg managed to get too close, she’d toss a knife. Sometimes she hit an eye, other times the neck, but she always– _always–_ aimed for the face. It might not kill them, but they just needed to distract. To slow them down. 

“Almost there,” Lorcan said, though where  _there_ was Elide didn’t know. She only hoped it meant safety. Even Lorcan was getting tired, his magic having been depleted hours earlier and his breathing growing heavy. He had to slow down to avoid collapsing entirely. 

“Okay I need you to listen, Elide,” he commanded, “we’re about to cross a bridge. As soon as we’re across, I need you to cut the rope. They  _can’t_ cross. Got it?” 

“Cut the rope,” she repeated. 

The horde of Valg were close. And Elide only had one knife left. A knife she needed, as Lorcan said, to cut the bridge. 

“Lorcan.” 

He didn’t respond to her.

“ _Lorcan,”_ she was louder this time. 

“What, Elide? We’re almost there. Just–” 

And then she screamed.

The Valg had caught up to them. 

“FASTER!” She yelled between shrieks. 

Their swords were at the ready, prepared to draw blood. And Elide only had a knife to fend them off. 

She managed to block the first blow. The second sliced her left arm open. She hissed at the pain. 

And then they were on the bridge, and Lorcan was using his remaining energy to get them across–and fast. They drew farther away from the Valg, but if they didn’t get across this bridge…

“ _NOW!”_ Lorcan screamed, and Elide whipped out her knife, severing the first bit of rope from the post. The bridge groaned. It wouldn’t hold the weight of the Valg for long, but they were coming fast, and if she didn’t cut the second rope soon…

“You need to hurry, Elide.” 

“I know,” she ground out as she worked. Why was this rope so rutting hard to cut? It wasn’t like– 

The Valg were close now, mere steps away, swords out. 

But then she heard the  _snap_ of the rope, and the bridge collapsed. The Valg were falling down, down into the chasm. 

Elide heaved a sigh of relief as Lorcan put her down, and then collapsed onto the grass. 

“We’re alive,” he breathed. 

“Alive,” she repeated, sitting in the grass beside him.

She moved closer to Lorcan, and he furrowed his brow. 

She kissed his cheek. 

“Why did you–you haven’t…” he started.

“You’re not forgiven. But you did just help save our asses, so consider that a thank you.” 

He returned the kiss. 

“You saved us too, you know.” 

“I know,” she said, and she didn’t know if it was the adrenaline, or exhaustion, or what, but she pulled him closer, and kissed him again. 


	3. Snip Snip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorcan hasn't cut his hair for years. When his son finds some scissors, Lorcan finds he might not have a choice but to try a new hairdo

For two-hundred years, Lorcan refused to cut his hair. 

Sure, he’d maintain it–trimming when necessary, keeping it from getting  _too_ long–but he preferred it a little below his shoulders. Elide seemed to love it, too. She’d braid it when she was bored, or somehow convince him to try the man-bun look (much to his dismay, even he had to admit it was better for fighting), so he’d never had a reason to cut it. 

Until today. 

Somehow, his eldest child of six years got a hold of a pair of scissors in the house. However he got them, Lorcan didn’t know. They’d taken care to either childproof or hide anything potentially dangerous. Granted, Lorcan  _did_ have an abundance of weapons, but those were locked away in a separate room of the house, behind two locked doors and one magically enchanted one. So their kids could never get the weapons–unless they were made out of wood and used for practice. 

But somehow, despite having every corner of the house childproofed, their eldest managed to get into the drawer holding the scissors. Clever bugger, he is. And this child, oh, he was a devious one. Prone to mischief. Lorcan still believes he got it from his mother, though Elide claims it comes from them both. 

It was the early hours of the morning when Elide and Lorcan woke up to loud giggles coming from Lorcan’s side of the bed. 

“Lorcan, do you hear that?” Elide groaned, eyes still closed. Dawn hadn’t even arrived yet, and they should still be asleep. 

He rubbed his eyes, trying to erase the tiredness. One good night of sleep. That’s all he wanted. “I thought I was the only one.” 

“It’s coming from your side.” 

Grumbling, Lorcan lit a candle, only to find his son, doubled over in laughter on the floor. 

“What’re you laughing at?” Lorcan’s voice was rough, partly from the lack of sleep, partly from…well, being woken up. 

His son immediately stopped laughing as he stared up at his father. “I–nothing!” 

“You’re sure about that?” Elide sat up and turned to face the culprit, too. But then started giggling herself, as she looked between her son and her husband. 

“Elide? Really?” Lorcan whispered, straining his voice so their son wouldn’t hear. 

“I can’t help it,” she said between giggles. 

It didn’t take long before Lorcan saw it. There, in his son’s right hand, was a pair of scissors. 

In his left, a chunk of dark hair. 

Unlike his wife and his son, he didn’t find the matter very funny at all. He shot out of bed, running to the nearest mirror to inspect the damage his son had caused.  _If I need to cut my hair…_

He lit a few candles in the bathroom, just enough so he could see his reflection in the mirror. The damage wasn’t visible right away. Lorcan’s head was turned, so his son couldn’t snip the front. The back, however, was another story entirely, for as Lorcan ran his hands through the back, inspecting it, he noticed there was a gap in the back of his head, where no hair could be found. Instead of his fingers brushing through strands, they passed through air. 

“Shit…” he muttered, and angled his head so he could see the back. 

It was as bad as it felt. A huge chunk of his hair was missing, straight from the back. Just snipped right off while he was asleep.  _Oh, gods…_ he would have to cut it. He wanted to blame his son, but really, he couldn’t. It  _was_ a good prank. One he would’ve pulled as a child, too, if he’d had the ability. He knew he shouldn’t be proud of his son for this, but he still felt a bit of pride. After all, his son  _was_ a clever one. 

Still, something needed to be done. He and Elide couldn’t let him get away with this, or let him think this was okay. So he walked back to the bed, where his son sat with Elide. They were both still laughing. 

“Hey, kid,” he said, sitting down next to him, “we need to talk.” 

His son immediately stopped laughing. 

“I’ll be the first to admit this was a good prank,” Lorcan started, “but if you got caught doing this to someone who isn’t your dad–” 

“I’d get in trouble,” his son finished for him. 

“ _Big_ trouble. You can’t do this again. Not to me, not to mom, not to anyone. Got it?” 

He nodded. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, kiddo. One question though: where’d you get the scissors?” 

Lorcan’s son grinned. “I climbed onto the counter and opened the drawer!” 

“We need to fix that,” Elide muttered. Lorcan nodded to his wife. 

“Okay, off to bed, you.” 

With that, Lorcan took his son back to his room, being sure to take the scissors away. 

“What am I going to do with… _this,”_ he said to Elide, coming back into the room and pointing at his hair. 

“There’s only one solution, Lorcan.” 

He knew what it was, knew what it entailed, and he nodded gravely. “We need to chop it off.” 

***

That was how Lorcan’s hair went from a beautiful mane, to a short, cropped cut. 

It didn’t fit him whatsoever. He looked too…clean cut. Not rugged enough. He wasn’t a fan. Not one bit. 

“C’mon, Lorcan, it doesn’t look that bad!” 

Lorcan groaned. “It  _does._ You know it, I know it.” 

“You look good. It’s just shorter. Like Rowan’s, after he cut it before the war. It looks  _fine.”_

Lorcan wasn’t convinced, though. He’d never had his hair this short. It felt odd to feel a breeze on his neck, instead of hair. It felt wrong to look in the mirror. 

He didn’t feel like himself. 

“Elide–” 

“Don’t  _Elide_ me,” she started, “you look good. You might not like it now, but guess what? It’ll grow back. And who knows, you might come to like this new hair. It will certainly make fighting easier, what with no hair getting in your face and blocking your sight.” 

She did have a point. He might not like it now, but eventually, it would grow back. He would be himself again. And until then–though it might take an adjustment period–he’d get used to the new look. Maybe even take a look in the mirror every now and again. 

It might not be his favorite haircut, but he’d get through it. He wouldn’t let it get in the way of himself, despite how much he missed his old locks. And eventually, with time, he’d be back to normal, to the long-haired, rugged soldier. He just had to be patient. 

“You’re right, Elide. It’ll grow back.” 


	4. Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorcan teaches Elide the art of sword throwing.

Elide glared at Lorcan as he threw sword after sword at the nearby tree, forming a perfect triangle. It seemed that wherever he aimed, he hit. 

Only centuries of training could’ve made that possible. 

And to think that he could teach her to do that…in  _not_ centuries? Oh, he put a lot of faith into his teaching abilities, it seemed. 

“Elide,” he called, gesturing for her to come up to the platform as he pulled the swords out of their target, “were you watching?” 

“Of course I was,” she replied, narrowing her eyes and quite nearly ripping the blades from his hand. 

“Prove it.” 

“Fine.” 

Dropping the other two swords, she balanced the one in her hand, concentrated, aimed, and…hadn’t even managed to toss the blade far enough to reach the tree. Instead, the hilt hit the grass with a  _thud._

Elide growled, picked up another sword, and threw it again. 

It hit the grass, this time closer to the tree, but still hadn’t hit the target. 

She could hear Lorcan chuckle behind her. 

“ _Shut. Up.”_ Oh, she would take his head off for that. 

“You’re not concentrating, Elide. Hold the sword like this,” he demonstrated with his own blade, “and  _aim._ You’re too distracted.” 

“ _I didn’t ask for your opinion, Lorcan,”_ Elide snapped, and tossed the third and final blade at the tree. It embedded itself at the bottom of the trunk. 

“Maybe if you asked me, you’d be hitting the target,” Lorcan chuckled, “I can show you again if you’d like.” 

“Showing me won’t do anything. I need to  _learn,_ and you’re a crappy teacher.” 

Lorcan held his heart, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know I trained Rowan Whitethorn back in the day. And Fenrys, too.” 

“Doesn’t look like it to me,” Elide grumbled. 

“Here,” he said, grabbing the swords from where they landed and walking back to her, “let me show you one more time.” 

She glared. 

“Please,” he added. 

Elide nodded her agreement, and he stepped behind her, placing a sword in her hand. 

“Oh, don’t pull this shit with me, Lorcan. Really?” 

“It’s the best way to learn,” he replied smoothly, wrapping his arms around her so that his hand covered where she was holding the sword. “Now, aim–like this,” he said, guiding her sword-arm.

She rolled her eyes. “I know that.” 

“Doesn’t look like it to me. Now, the throw needs to be balanced. It’s more than just a flick of the wrist, and you–” 

“ _You’ve already said that,”_ Elide hissed, though Lorcan remained steadfast. 

“Well, you haven’t followed my advice yet, and until you do, I’m just going to keep repeating it. Remember, you’re the one who asked me to teach you how to throw.” 

“I know, I know.” 

“Now, all you have to do is throw the sword like this–” he let go as she readied herself and tossed the sword. 

It hit the tree and stayed there, precisely where he’d helped her aim. “See?” Lorcan said, smiling. “Do that again, but this time without my help.” 

So she did. Elide concentrated, readied herself as Lorcan demonstrated, and threw the sword. Again, it hit exactly where she’d aimed. 

“Again, Elide.” 

She didn’t even give a retort before she threw the third and final sword with the precision of the warrior standing behind her. 

Elide turned around as it flew through the air and landed, unsurprisingly, where she’d aimed. 

“Didn’t ask for my opinion, huh?” Lorcan said as Elide stalked over to him, got onto her toes, and planted a kiss on his cheek. 

“Shut up,” she replied, punching him in the arm. 

“That’s how you say thank you?” 

“Of course it is,” she said, smirking. “Now, show me again.” 


	5. So, I Bought you this Trampoline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorcan decides he's going to make Elide smile.

Elide was tired. 

Rebuilding was still ongoing, despite it having been two years since the war ended. While externally, the buildings were reconstructed, the farms flourishing, and the people happy, there was still so much to do. 

Being Lady of Perranth, it seemed, was not simply a title. 

She wouldn’t have it any other way. Day in and day out, she oversaw meetings, held forums to talk with the people of Perranth, and made trips to Orynth when the Queen demanded her presence for whatever reason. Between the constant work and always-hectic schedule, she needed a day off. 

Elide did not see that happening anytime soon, though. 

So every day, she’d come home and flop into bed, and promptly pass out. Half the time, she didn’t even notice if Lorcan was beside her or not. Her eyes simply closed; she didn’t have the energy to so much as turn her head. 

Sometimes, she’d feel a soft kiss pressed to her forehead. Sometimes, she’d try to get up, to say goodnight, to do  _something,_ but she was so, so exhausted. 

***

Lorcan couldn’t remember the last time Elide had smiled. Not the Lady of Perranth’s smile–no, for she smiled for her people at every forum, at every building that had been rebuilt, at the prosperity that had finally begun. 

What Lorcan wanted to see–what he missed dearly–was seeing her smile for herself, to laugh because they were  _alive,_ and happy. He knew she was happy to be home, yes, but…he wanted her to truly smile. To beam for a reason other than her people. To smile because of something so absolutely silly, she couldn’t help it. 

That was when he came up with his plan. As soon as Elide woke from the night’s sleep, if all went according to plan, he’d get her to smile. Laugh, even. And maybe that would take the weight off her shoulders. If even for a little bit. 

***

Elide awoke with Lorcan’s arms around her. 

“Morning, Elide.” 

She smiled up at him. “Morning, Lorcan.” 

“I can’t remember the last time we woke up together,” he said, pulling her closer, “usually you’re gone by now.” 

Elide stiffened. He was right. She shouldn’t be here, she should be hearing her people, hearing their needs and helping and working towards making Perranth–

“Elide, it’s okay.” Lorcan noticed her panic, it seemed. “You don’t have any appointments until at least noon. And if I’m right, it’s just about dawn.” 

She yawned. “I suppose…” 

“This is your morning to relax, Elide. You deserve it. Now, to commemorate this morning of relaxation, I got you a gift. Wanna see?” Lorcan wriggled his eyebrows. 

She narrowed her eyes. “A gift? And one you’re excited about?” 

“Hold on. I’ll be right back.” 

With that, Lorcan hopped out of bed and ran further into their chambers. When he returned, he was carrying what looked to be…well, she’d never seen one in person before. Only heard about them through folks who had seen carnival acts, who had seen the performers launch themselves into the air without any sort of magic. 

“What  _is_ that? I’ve seen them before, but…”

Lorcan grinned. “It’s a trampoline. Smaller than the usual ones, but I thought it would suffice.” 

“Why would we need one of…those?” She furrowed her brow. 

“Well, since you’re so short, and I’m so tall, I figured you might want one of these. That way, you could kiss me without having to get on your tiptoes, and I wouldn’t have to bend down. You’d just jump,” he grinned, demonstrating for her, “and plant a kiss on my cheek.” 

Her shoulders shook as a smile grew on her face, her laughter threatening to burst from her. “I…Lorcan, this is ridiculous! Though, I do admire the thought that went into this…idea of yours.” 

“I only did it to make you smile,” he said, taking her hand and pulling her out of bed. “You’ve been working so hard, Elide, and I wanted to make you smile. Laugh, even. Seems I accomplished both with my  _ridiculous_ idea.” 

With that, laughter spilled out of her, full and bright. “I love you, Lord Lorcan Lochan.” 

“I love you too, Lady Elide Lochan. Now, how about you try out that trampoline?” 

“Good idea,” she replied, still laughing. 


End file.
